


Out In The Blue

by Jiangyin



Category: Hanson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Australia, Camp Nanowrimo, Campfires, Camping, Gen, Road Trips, Surfing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiangyin/pseuds/Jiangyin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months before the release of <em>Underneath</em>, Isaac, Taylor and Zac go on a road trip to blow off a bit of steam and reconnect as band mates and brothers. Part of <em>The Sound Of Light</em> 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out In The Blue

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for making _Lanterns_ part of a series came to me around the middle of 2013, after the Hanson Day livestream that premiered _The Sound Of Light_ members' EP. Originally I had planned on _Lanterns_ being the first instalment in that series, with subsequent stories focusing on the recording and release of _Anthem_. It wasn't until I came up with the idea for _Out In The Blue_ that I realised my plans would need to be altered. This story is set seven years prior to the beginning of _Lanterns_ , during May 2005, and takes its title from a solo album by Australian musician (and front man for Cold Chisel) Jimmy Barnes.

The first thing I saw when I opened my bedroom door was a six-pack of Coopers Premium Light dangling right in front of my face. I pushed the six-pack aside so that I could see just who it was that had woken me up from a much-needed (and as far as I was concerned, well-deserved) nap. As soon as I saw the Ramones T-shirt they were wearing, I bit back a tired groan.

“Fuck off and let me sleep,” I grumbled. The six-pack lowered just far enough for me to see Zac eyeing me with one eyebrow raised. Standing just behind him was Isaac, who in contrast to Zac’s raised eyebrow was smirking at me.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Zac said. “What crawled up your arse and died?”

“You know damn well what, Zachary,” I retorted. “What do you two lunatics want already?”

“Us two” Zac nodded back over his shoulder at Isaac “are going on a road trip. And _you_ are coming with us whether you like it or not.” He punctuated this sentence with a finger pointed right at my face.

“Like hell I am! In case you’ve forgotten Zac, I’m still in treatment,” I reminded my brother, turning around and heading back to my bed as I spoke. “And unless I get the good news I’m hoping for on Friday, things are staying that way for the foreseeable future.”

“We know, Tay,” Isaac said. He cleared a space on the end of my bed, pushing aside a couple of books and my well-worn Merewether High School Year 12 hoodie, and sat down. Zac for his part perched backwards on my desk chair, setting the six-pack on the floor near his feet. I climbed back into bed and pulled my quilt over my legs, propping myself up with a couple of extra pillows. “Didn’t Dr. Ames say though that this cycle was your last?”

“She was fairly sure about that, yeah,” I admitted. “Doesn’t mean she was right though. For all I know she’ll want me back in hospital on Friday for another go at it.” I shuddered mentally at the thought of more chemotherapy.

“Okay, let’s say then that she tells you on Friday that you’re done and you don’t have to do chemo anymore,” Zac said. “There wouldn’t be anything stopping you from going on a road trip with us, right?”

“I’m not going, Zac,” I said.

“But there wouldn’t be anything stopping you,” he repeated. “Right?”

I let out a quiet sigh. “No, I suppose not. That still doesn’t mean I’m coming,” I added hurriedly when I saw Zac’s eyes light up. “I mean it, Zac. I just want to take things easy for now, at least until the new album’s out and we have to go on tour.”

“And there’s, what, five or six months until then?” Isaac said, sounding unsure of when our next album was actually due for release.

“Five,” Zac said. “Joel said Liberation’s aiming for October to give us a chance to completely finish it.”

“Five months then.” And here Isaac eyed me. “You can’t seriously tell me you’d be happy with lazing around here for five months.”

I scowled at him. “I’ve done it for the last two years since I moved back, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, and you’ve hated every moment of it,” Zac piped up. “I know you Tay, and I know you’re not happy unless you’re out there _doing_ something. Especially when that something is surfing.”

_That_ got my attention. “Surfing?” I repeated.

“Surfing,” Zac said with a smile. “That’s the whole reason we’re going.”

I suddenly had a vision of the surfboard I’d commissioned as a twenty-first birthday present to myself – a surfboard that had sat in the garage unused for more than a year. There were plenty of great surfing spots around Newcastle – Merewether Beach being my favourite – but it had been years since I’d taken advantage of any of them. Now, it seemed, I was potentially getting a chance at finally christening my new board.

“Uh-oh, he’s getting ideas,” Isaac joked, and I threw one of my pillows at him.

“What beaches are we talking about?” I asked. I was slowly beginning to warm to the idea of going on a road trip purely for the purpose of going for a surf, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

Zac pulled his phone out of a pocket, slid it open and started poking at its keypad. “Nine Mile Beach at Tuncurry, Killick Beach at Crescent Head, Angourie Beach at Yamba, Seven Mile Beach at Lennox Head, Kirra Beach at Coolangatta and Noosa Main Beach on the way up,” he replied without looking up from his phone. “Main Beach at Byron Bay and Lighthouse Beach at Port Macquarie on the way back.”

“How long have you two been planning this?” I asked. I caught Zac’s phone when he tossed it to me and scanned his list for myself.

“About six months,” Isaac replied. “Us two” he gestured at Zac “knew you’d probably be done at the end of April or the start of May. We haven’t booked anything yet, just planned it all out. Though we should probably start looking at booking things, now that I think of it.”

“Good idea, genius,” I snarked. “You two are just going to keep pestering me about this until I say yes, aren’t you?”

Zac snorted. “Stupid question.”

I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes. “Okay. I’ll make a deal with the two of you. I’ll come _if_ Dr. Ames gives me the go-ahead. My only condition is that whenever it is that she wants to see me next, we have to be back before then. Otherwise I’m staying home. Deal?”

“Deal,” Isaac and Zac said in unison.

* * *

Friday morning saw me walking out of Mater Misericordiae Hospital with an envelope containing my next appointment date in a pocket of my hoodie and the mother of all smiles on my face.

It was over. It had taken nearly three years and more cycles of chemotherapy than I cared to think about, but it was official – I was finally in remission. I still had another five years to go before I could consider myself cured, which meant five years of almost constantly looking back over my shoulder, but I didn’t care one bit right now.

“What did Dr. Ames say?” Mum asked as I got back into the front passenger seat of her Astra. “You look happy, so she clearly had good news for you.”

“I made remission,” I replied, closing the car door and buckling my seat belt while I spoke. “Got another appointment on June sixth, and Dr. Ames doesn’t have a problem with me going off on a road trip.”

“Good. I’m very glad to hear that.” Here Mum looked over at me. “Are you sure you should be going on a road trip right now?”

I gave a one-sided shrug, hitching my left shoulder up to my ear. I wasn’t all that keen on moving my right arm any more than was necessary, at least not until the spot where my central line had been healed. “If Dr. Ames says she’s fine with it, then I’m not going to argue with her. Besides, it’ll be nice to get away for a little while before I have to go back to work.”

Of course, if I’d known exactly what my brothers’ road trip would involve, I might not have been so willing to be dragged along on their little adventure.

That evening, after we had all arrived home from dinner at Rosina’s Pizza, I joined my brothers out on the back verandah. It wasn’t all that cold tonight – the thermometer mounted on the wall read seventeen degrees – but there was a southerly breeze and it was going straight through me, even with my hoodie wrapped tightly around myself and a beanie pulled down over my ears.

“So you’re done,” Isaac said once I’d seated myself in one of the folding chairs Mum and Dad kept out on the verandah, and I nodded. Now that the euphoria I’d felt that morning at finally making it to remission had evaporated, I just felt stunned. For nearly three years, since the beginning of August 2002, my life had essentially consisted of a seemingly endless stream of doctor’s appointments, tests, chemotherapy and avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I almost didn’t know what to do with myself.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

“Jesus, don’t sound so enthusiastic,” Zac remarked. “You made it Tay, you should be celebrating.”

“Zac, look at it from my perspective, okay?” I said, trying not to sound too exasperated. “This was a massive part of my life for almost three years. I just...” I picked at the hem of my hoodie, trying to put what I felt into words. “Right now I feel lost. I’m probably going to feel that way for a few months yet.” I managed a small smile. “I am glad I’m done, but I don’t really want to celebrate just yet. Okay?”

“Fair enough,” Zac said with a shrug. “So, our road trip – when do you two want to head off?”

“It’s May sixth today, right?” Isaac asked, and both Zac and I nodded. “I reckon the ninth – I still need to call the caravan park in Tuncurry to make sure they have any free campsites, but I’ll probably do that tomorrow.”

“ _Camping?_ ” I asked. “What the fuck for?”

“Because it’s fun?” Zac said, as if the answer to my question was an obvious one. “Besides, I thought you liked going camping.”

“I do, but...” I trailed off, trying to figure out how to put what I wanted to say. “I just finished chemotherapy, Zac.”

“Yeah, three weeks ago,” he reminded me. “And it’s not like we’ll be out back of Bourke anyway. There’s bound to be at least one hospital or doctor’s office near every place we’re going on the road trip. Call Dr. Ames if you’re worried about it, but I think you’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” My left hand crept up to the back of my head, where the tails of my bandanna were hanging out from beneath my beanie. “I’m not trying to get out of this –  I made a deal with the two of you and I’m sticking by it. I just don’t want anything to fuck it up.”

“Nothing’s going to fuck things up,” Isaac said, before standing up and disappearing inside. He returned a few minutes later with three bottles of Coopers Premium Light – I figured they were from the six-pack that Zac had brought home with him earlier that week – and a bottle opener. Zac and I each took a bottle, and the bottle opener was passed between the three of us. “Well, here’s to Taylor telling cancer to piss off and making it to remission,” Isaac said, holding his own bottle aloft. Zac and I joined him, clinking our bottles together.

“Fuck cancer,” Zac added.

“Yeah, fuck cancer,” I agreed.


End file.
